Malouf syndrome

A STAMPEDE OF STEAKHOUSES OVERRAN THE RESTAURANT scene in Dallas last year, and innovative, imaginative fine dining seemed on the very verge of extinction. There were a handful of creative makeovers: Arcodoro/Pomodoro moved and improved its popular Sardinian menu, Cafe on the Green at the Four Seasons elevated Chef Christof Syre's cuisine, and the fine-dining experience at Arthur's arose from the flames and is back in fine form.

But this year, in spite of some big-name closings, in the face of recession, national disaster, and consumer caution, the prospects for dining out in Dallas are stronger than ever.

The new marketing language of restaurateurs often refers to the "DNA" of the business. A restaurant with strong DNA (delicious food, appealing design, and a reasonable business plan based on good timing) is one that will survive, and, possibly, replicate. This year's list of best restaurants proves Dallas dining is survival of the fittest.

1. 36 DEGREES

Love Among the Ruins

CHEF CHRIS SVALESEN FIRST SURFACED IN A Dallas kitchen 22 years ago with a prophetic promise to inlanders: I will make you eaters of fish. And, restaurant by restaurant, he has done just that. His latest venue, 36 Degrees (in an old T.G.I. Friday's location on Lemmon Avenue) is his dream restaurant, the big one he's been waiting for. Unfortunately, like so many other dreams, it suffered heavy damage on Sept. 11. But Svalesen has sublimely risen above the wreckage and created a place of grace from the chaos.

The dining room walls are made of raw Sheetrock, and the ceiling is yards of cheesecloth draped over twinkle lights. At the end of the tiny dining room is the kitchen, through which you have to walk to get to the restrooms and from which Svalesen sends out his plates of fabulous food.

Appetizer mussels were open-mouthed morsels, steamed to a quiver in a fragrant bath of gentle green curry; an aggregate of lobster nuggets shaped into a cake was presented on a plate splashed Pollock-style with vivid apricot and cumin remoulade. And a non-fish appetizer, the fried green tomato salad, was the Platonic ideal of this mythical dish. The tomato slices (surely doubledipped) were solidly coated so that the hot fat browned the crust without rendering the tart fruit to mush.

Svalesen has brought some favorites with him from past venues, such as the green "Mexican bouillabaisse," one of the most successful dishes at the erratic Fish, as well as the excellent lobster bisque, a soup with the resonance of good stock backing up the lobster essence and cream. Go elsewhere if you want steak or pasta, not because they aren't good here, but because you can't get seafood better elsewhere.

Artist's renderings hanging in the lobby depict the way 36 Degrees will look eventually. The vision is coolly elegant, an ice cream-colored version of Abacus. Svalesen's investors were hurt badly - in the pocketbook - in the aftermath of Sept. 11, so they pulled their support of the restaurant, at least temporarily, and the grand opening that was supposed to take place in October 2001 hadn't happened as of press time. To stay afloat, Svalesen opened the retail seafood market, Net Result, and then this temporary restaurant, making a beautiful success of the sad circumstances.

The contrast between the high-minded elegance of the food and the makeshift surroundings seems eerily timely, strangely appropriate. As is, 36 Degrees perfectly suits the unsettled, temporary mood of today's newly unbalanced world. 4140 Lemmon Ave. @ Douglas Ave. 214-521-4488, $$-$$$. Full bar.

2. YORK STREET

Alpha Female

SHARON HAGE'S YORK STREET IS THE PERfeet example of a delicious movement: the artisanal restaurant. In contrast to the big-business, high-profile, corporate-style steakhouses and gourmet palaces that have dominated Dallas dining, York Street shows Chef Hage's hands in every aspect of the business. She selected - "collected" is a more accurate word - the eclectic china place settings, a mix of new and old, fragile and funky. She buys the food, as much as possible from small sources, and much of it is organic. She writes the daily menu on her computer at home. She dreams up and prepares all the food. And her philosophy fuels the business. "I believe if it doesn't evolve, you die," she says. "Every day I ask myself, What can we do to make this place more comfortable for people who come here?"

It's a distinctly feminine definition of success: not bigger, but better.

To achieve it, she relies on a network of small purveyors and friends. Tom Spicer provides her organic produce and herbs; Pike's seafood in Portland, Maine, sends her skatewings, cod, and exotic seafood; Winn Meats brings in Jamison lamb and B3R organic beef for her ever-changing "chalkboard on paper" menu. She points out, rightly, that shopping is as much a part of being a chef as cooking.

Hage eschews the cliche triumphs of being a successful chef. For instance, she avoids "tortilla soup syndrome." being pigeonholed by a signature dish. In fact, she says, "It's a personal goal never to have a signature dish." York Street's tiny size works to her advantage: tentative regulars are still trying something different every time, and she wants to keep it that way, constantly experimenting with new and unusual ingredients and combinations.

Unlike many executive chefs. Hage's place is actually in the kitchen, and from the stove she conducts a hand-to-mouth dialogue with her customers, communicating via the dinner plate. She notices what gets scraped and what gets scrapped. She's thrilled that rabbit and skatewings outsell salmon. She's excited about the cleanplate response to calf's liver. On the other hand, she recently got an ocean perch from the coast of Maine, and the kitchen staff ended up eating it because it didn't sell.

The subculture of Dallas kitchens is still dominated by guys in tall white toques, but Hage's determination has taken her off the good-old-boy grid and up to the five-star level via a path of her own choosing. This tiny enclave is now her personal turf. She's changed everything except the name and put her personal stamp on every detail, from the biographical interior touches to the soothing tea service at the end of the perfect meal. In this tiny East Dallas restaurant, Chef Sharon Hage has created her own world. 6047 Lewis St. @ Skillman Rd. 214-826-0968. $$-$$$. Full bar.

3. LA DUNI

The Same, Only Different

"A DAY WITHOUT LAUGHTER, LOVE, OR dessert is a total loss of a day." That's what Espartaco Borga's mother used to tell him. Evidently, this is a man who listened to his mama: the first thing you get when you walk into his new restaurant. La Duni, is a pie in the face. so to speak.

A lavishly laid table displaying dream desserts separates the entry from the little coffee bar and from the dining room proper. Huge cakes, nearly 2 feet in diameter, tower on elaborate, hammered silver cake plates: rollo de canela y nuez, a double-butter cinnamon brioche roll filled with caramelized Texas pecans, silky, black chocolate truffle cake, ruffled with chocolate; vanilla cake filled with mouthwatering, yolk-yellow lemon curd; and the best-selling quatro leches (four milk) cake. layers of double vanilla sponge cake laced with Cacique rum and soaked in quatro leches sauce, topped with caramelized meringue and served with arequipe leche. Clearly, you cannot count the day lost when you've eaten at La Duni.

Borga's mother is not the only feminine spirit inspiring the restaurant. "In Latin America, you always call the home by the lady of the house," he says. So La Duni is named after his wife and pastry chef Dunia Borga. (Zuzu was Espartaco's childhood nanny, which explains the name of his first successful restaurant venture in Dallas.) Duni brought to-ether the dishes and the cooks that embody the couple's dream of an authentic, family-oriented Latin restaurant. Somehow, La Duni provides the ultimate restaurant experience - the comfort of a mother with the excitement of a lover.

The menu features dishes from Brazil, Colombia, Cuba, Peru, and Venezuela. The kitchen uses familiar ingredients with vivid imagination and authentic care. For instance, tostadas precede the meal, but instead of salsa, there's a trio of mojos on the table: roasted red pepper, cilantro and garlic, and chimichurri (parsley, oregano, garlic, and red pepper flakes). The cocktail menu is irresistible, and the tall drinks, handmixed and delivered to the table in the waiter's hand, recall a time when bartending was an art. A meal begins with planton campero, a combination appetizer plate with flat slices of green plantain, little fried balls of queso fresco, cheese-filled empanadas, and arepita. The torta is served in a popover filled with grilled picanha beef, fresh watercress, tomatoes, chimichurri, and cheese. The biggest seller is the pollo al aljibe, a roasted half chicken in a sauce of champagne and green oranges, served with garlic white rice, black beans, and fried sweet plantains.

South-of-the-border food in Dallas has never suffered the legendary fickleness of Dallas diners. We love all things Mexican without reservation. So it's no real stretch for our palates to embrace this next hot (pardon the pun) trend on a plate. La Duni has capitalized on our taste for beef and tortillas by concocting a menu of South American specialties, dishes that seem wildly exotic and comfortingly familiar at the same time. 4620 McKinney Ave. @ Knox St. 214-520-7300. $$$. Full bar.

4. FERRE RISTORANTE

Good Genes

THIS IS PROBABLY THE BEST TOMATO SOUP IN the universe. Certainly it's the best in Dallas.

The sweetness of the fruit is emphasized by onions and roasting and based on a deep-flavored foundation of stock. It's served in a coffee cup and topped with a cappuccino style foam of milk that replaces Campbell's cream as the unctuous tie that binds the flavors together.

The skill and attention given to this seemingly basic dish is representative of Chef Kevin Ascolese's kitchen in Patrick Colombo's restaurant. In fact, Ferre's success, after a shaky opening, results from the same good chemistry that created the Sfuzzi phenomenon 15 years ago when this duo, together with Chuck Kneeland, restored McKinney Avenue's reputation as Dallas' restaurant row. This year, they're re-pioneering the same street, with an anchor location in the West Village, the city's venture into new urbanism.

Once again, the chemistry is working and the time is right. Ferre offers high style at a low price in the right place. With a little help from designer friends, Colombo and his wife dreamed up the Milanese decor - a big, crowded, convivial room with oases of intimacy created by lighting, windows, and well-placed art. Chuck Kneeland runs the front of the house, and his presence in the project was enough to lure Ascolese out of Salve's kitchen and into Ferre's. "Knowing I was going to work with Chuck on a day-to-day basis was the single biggest reason I came here," Ascolese says.

A great dish is made up of layered flavors that segue into one another and complement each other so perfectly that you can hardly identify them all. Our memories of visits to Ferre are in our mouth: gnocchi so light it melts in your mouth like cotton candy is tossed with shrimp cooked just to curling. Tuscanstyle steak is sizzled in olive oil, lightening the beef's heft.

In a top restaurant, the service is so smooth that you don't notice anything but the food. Restaurant success is based on ensemble effort - it takes just the right combination of tried-and-true expertise to make a restaurant like Ferre, as comforting and classic as tomato soup. West Village, 3699 McKinney Ave. 214522-3888. $$-$$$. Full bar.

5. LE RENDEVOUS

Deja Vu

IT'S LATE IN THE EVENING, AND THE ONLY diners left are lingering over coffee.

As we leave, we see two old, round-cheeked men sitting at a two-top table by the door - one in chef's whites still streaked from the kitchen, the other with wild gray hair. Speaking fast in French punctuated with their hands, the old friends talk and laugh over their wine and dinner.

Thirty years ago, you might often have seen a similar scene in Dallas when restaurants Mr. Peppe, Marcel's, and Ewald's all shared the same block and their French chefs would gather late at night to unwind in one of the restaurants, as if Lovers Lane were a Paris boulevard. They are long gone, and for a sad while, it looked like French food was gone from Dallas, too. But not while Chef Jean LaFont, probably the best chef Dallas ever claimed, still wields a whisk. That's LaFont at the table with Chef Jean Rubede, two survivors of the Dallas dining scene. The Frenchmen are old friends - and business neighbors, now that LaFont is cooking at Le Rendezvous. This straightforward French menu at LaFont's place is simple, elegant, and excellent by virtue of tradition, not trendiness.

The dining room is beautiful in a bourgeois way, with a fireplace, a tiny dance floor, and a mural of a French chateau on one wall. It's meant to make you comfortable, not take your breath away. Likewise, the menu doesn't bowl you over with innovation. Instead, it is short and to the point. A pastry cup is filled with wild mushrooms in a Madeira sauce, topped with chunks of sharp Roquefort. The onion soup is the real thing: as the waiter set down the traditional crock, our noses picked up the distinctive scent of the traditional veal stock. Vichyssoise Parisienne was velvety smooth and cold, with chunks of fresh crab sprinkled with fresh chives. Dover sole is sauteed to a fine, firm texture and served "belle meuniere," in a light butter and lemon sauce with sauteed wild mushrooms. Grilled filet mignon "Oscar of the Waldorf" is a 2-inch-thick filet topped with an inch of crab and two tips of asparagus crossed like a coat of arms. Desserts are so fine and so French: raspberry souffle or dark chocolate mousse served in a cracked chocolate egg.

Jean LaFont cooked at The Pyramid, Les Saisons, Arthur's, and other upscale Dallas restaurants in the '70s and '80s. Le Rendezvous puts him back in the spotlight, doing a reprise of recipes he's perfected over the years. "I dedicated my life to food," he says. "I wanted to do a nice French restaurant before I retired." 5934 Royal Lane, Ste. 120. 214-739-6206. $$-$$$. Full bar.

6. THE MERCURY

Versatility by Design

TRIED-AND-TRUE TEAMWORK AND TALENT are pioneering fine dining at the new Mercury in the (possibly) greener pastures of Willow Bend. Smiling George is one of the front-of-the-house stars in Dallas, and his warming welcome and the kitchen wizardry of Chef Chris Ward lend coziness to Mercury's decor by Zero Three. Simple solutions to design challenges are this firm's forte. This is a fine example. For instance, Mercury has hitched its star to the Chris Shops at Willow Bend, but evidently, just to give the restaurant enough parking. (That is, says Mercury doesn't rely on mall walkers for its business. In fact, it doesn't even have an entrance from inside the mall.) The wall opposite the kitchen is lined with windows that would look out over the acres of parking lot except for the construction of a simple wall, just several feet beyond a rock garden, painted vivid chartreuse. We can think of a dozen restaurants in Dallas that should swipe this idea. The kitchen simply shows what's pretty through sheets of

clear glass, while frosted glass screens the ugly aspect of cooking. The sunny, domed entry leads into the two-story dining room that seems casual and clean by day but stylish and intimate at night. Or, if you prefer a cozy dinner in a more traditional setting by the fire, eat in the library.

Chris Ward has brought some of his best tricks with him from the old Mercury (now Mercury Grill) in Preston Forest. For example, the Crackling Chicken is a bestseller here, too. Crisp, crusted skin that snaps and melts in the mouth protects incredibly moist meat thoughtfully nestled on whipped potatoes that catch the juices. It's been said that Kobe beef is Ward's new signature, but the piece we prefer is the salmon sided with caramelized endive. We continued the caramel theme into the apple pie dessert. But Ward's former signature dish - the silky foie gras drizzled with white truffle oil, flanked by wild mushroom ragout - remains as the reason (for us) to make the 30-minute drive north.

Zero Three has been designing restaurants for M Crowd and Mico Rodriguez's other projects for several years. This Mercury may be its best effort yet. Cutting edge and cozy, cool and comforting, chic and chicken - all these seeming contradictions apply to Mercury. This is a restaurant that can become what you want it to be, largely because of the design. The Shops at Willow Bend. 6121 W. Park Blvd., Plano. 469-366-0107. $$-$$$. Full bar.

7. NANA

Taking It to the Top

OTHER CITIES ESCHEW RESTAURANTS IN hotels, but Dallas has always relied on its hotel dining rooms. The Fairmont and The Mansion have probably influenced good food in this town more than any other restaurants. Moreover, our hotel dining rooms have dared to set a standard of service that few independents can afford. Still, elegance has had a hard year. Fewer and fewer operators are finding it possible to survive in the rarefied high end of the restaurant food chain. So when a face lift was announced for the Anatole's premier restaurant last year, it was hard to know what to expect.

Nana's face lift was not only truly rejuvenating, it was also a daring reversal of current restaurant trends. At a time when everyone is scrambling for low-ticket volume, Nana ratcheted things up. In fact, fight up to the top. This may be the most elegant dining room in Dallas right now. The egalitarian word "grill" is gone from the name; the menu is lavished with truffles and foie gras and caviar; the table is set with Italian napkins of Egyptian cotton, enormous crystal wine goblets, Versace and Rosenthal china, heavy silver Italian flatware, and silver salt dishes. Waiters hover to retrieve napkins and remove plates, and the room sings with violins. The decor is subtly elegant, relying on the dazzling, unobstructed view of downtown visible from every table and on the priceless art placed throughout the restaurant: 300-year-old statues of Buddha, jade horses, and cloisonne vases from the same collection of Trammell Crow's that fills the Asian art museum in the Arts District.

Nana is now a restaurant reaching for the very top, and under the experienced professionalism of Manager Paul Pinnell and the judicious extravagance of Chef David McMillan, it achieves the pinnacle. The wine list is a book that could make good bedtime reading-it's that extensive and interesting, and the by-the-glass selection allows you to make a full meal without a full bottle. Perhaps the best way to appreciate the range of both kitchen and service here is to order the chef's tasting menu: a 12-course feast that includes such culinary challenges as foie gras with Tokaj caramelized pineapple, seared marlin with wild mushrooms and truffled potato cake, and Axis venison chop with celery root puree and lingonberry sauce.

A meal at Nana now sets a daring standard for luxury in Dallas dining - a rare experience. Anatole Hotel, 2201 Stemmons Fwy. 214-761-7479. $$$. Full bar.

8. ECCOLO

Good Bones

EVERYTHING FROM GOOD WRITING TO GOOD looks to good cooking requires good structure. Good bones, you might say.

Rick Robbins, chef at Eccolo, spends $400 a week on bones. Without good bones, he says, you can't get the right depth of flavor in sauces.

Four years ago, at Ewald's, this chef served us one of the worst professionally prepared meals we've eaten in Dallas. But after a year and a half of eating and cooking in Italy, Chef Robbins is a contender in Dallas dining rooms. For instance, his risotto with black truffles, one of the defining dishes of Italian cuisine, is superb.

Robbins feels he was born to cook, and he started early. He graduated from the Western Culinary Institute in Portland (his hometown) in 1994, when he was 20. But his real gastronomic education came in Italy, first at the Grand Hotel Villa Serbellom in Bellagio, and then at the Italian Culinary Institute in Costigliole D'Asti. That's where restaurateur Al Granoff sent his protege in preparation for opening Eccolo in the old Toscana space.

The two had worked together in an attempt to rejuvenate the Stoneleigh Hotel, and when Granoff decided to open a really traditional Italian restaurant with an all-Italian wine list and a roots-regional Italian menu, he turned to Robbins again. Together they built the restaurant concept from the inside (the bones) out.

In the kitchen, Robbins is a purist. His sauces are the key to his food, and he makes them the lengthy, long-cooked, old-fashioned way, taking no shortcuts and using no bases or pastes. He imports many of his ingredients, including a cheese he discovered in Puglia, mozzarella burrato pugliese. He depends on traditional recipes, such as bisteccafiorentina, the 16-ounce, bone-in, grilled Angus strip loin with sea salt, unfiltered extra-virgin olive oil, and a salad of arugula and grana padano. When black truffles were in season this winter, Robbins devised a whole menu devoted to truffles, which cost about $600 a pound.

Even the bargain-basement version of the luxury food reflected the worth of Robbins' belief in bone-deep basics. For $27, we were served nothing more than rice, butter, stock, cheese, and truffles-a deep plate of rich, creamy risotto infused with the deep earthy musk of black truffles. The dish was perfect to the tooth, creamy in the mouth, basic Italian, and flawless. 4900 McKinney Ave. @ Monticello Ave. 214-521-3560. $$$. Full bar.

9. ORGANICITY

Idiot Savant

OCCASIONALLY, A PLACE WORKS IN SPITE OF itself, because it breaks all the rules of sensible business and runs enthusiastically on passion and luck alone. That's Organicity, one of the unlikeliest and most delightful success stories of the year.

Gino and Olina Nikolini are shoe and clothing designers from Thassaloniki, a city in Macedonia, Greece. He spent three years making shoes for his shop in SoHo but left for Dallas in 1992.

They had great success with their fashion business - their shoes are carried in Harvey Nichols in London, Barney's, and Nordstrom. But they got homesick for good Greek food, especially food from Macedonia, so they opened the small retail store just down from the corner of Cole and McKinney to showcase shoes and food. Well, it doesn't really make a lot of sense, but somehow it works. And it seems perfectly natural, when you're sitting at Organicity enjoying the excellent moussaka, to see a pair of 5-inch, pink-studded wedges used as a centerpiece.

This is probably the only place in America where you can buy a camo skirt trimmed with red tulle and some killer tzatziki.

The Greek menu includes the usual - hummus, Greek salad, moussaka, pastitsio, and dolmas - but there are also some more unusual dishes, like radikia, bitter greens boiled and flavored with olive oil and lemon. Gino brought the seeds from Macedonia and grows the plants on a friend's property near Southfork. He also imports giant beans from Greece, boils and bakes them, and serves them with fresh tomato sauce and olive oil. "I'm far away from my country, and I know what is good," insists Gino, who is happy to point out the health benefits of his cooking. His yogurt salad is "good for your skin and your belly." The radikia is beneficial for your liver and pancreas.

It's admittedly rare to find health food, once synonymous with ugly shoes, and fashion under the same roof, but Gino says the two go together. "Because we are designers, we cook with passion!" Like everything else about this eccentric restaurant, it may be the exception that proves the rule. 3028 Hall St. 214-953-0330. $-$$. Beer and wine.

10. HOLY SMOKES

It's the Bomb!

IN TEXAS BARBEQUE MEANS brisket. But that's not true everywhere, Holy Smokes offers a nonparochial barbeque experience. The owners, two guys from Highland Park, traveled all over, tasting regional barbeque. Then they came home and created a true cultural smorgasbord, a high-minded buffet of low-down barbeque.

Chris Andrews and Wright Monning have known each other since the fifth grade. Their hobby/business of smoking meats turned into a catering business and then became the drearn of a restaurant. So they packed up Wright's truck and took off.

"We wanted to make sure that we tasted each style of barbeque," says Andrews. "We went to all of the famous places, but we were mainly looking for the different techniques and how barbeque was viewed by the culture.

"At Dreamland in Tuscaloosa, Ala., we spent the day with the owner, Fat Daddy, who taught us his technique: a dry rub, a bit of smoke, and a finish on the charbroiler," he adds. "But our major influence came from the Hill Country, where the barbeque is different because of the German settlers." The main difference is the cold smoking, and Holy Smokes cold smokes their Hill Countrystyle brisket for 16 to 18 hours.

But something else sets Holy Smokes apart: they sell a lot of non-Texas barbeque. The pulled pork sandwich made Memphis-style and served with coleslaw is a big seller. The popular Santa Fe green chile stew and even a (sigh) Caesar salad with grilled chicken prove how eclectic Holy Smokes' menu really is.

On the other hand, they don't neglect the culture of their native city, either, unabashedly serving Frito pie, perhaps the ultimate Dallas junk food: chopped brisket, shredded cheese, onions, barbeque sauce, and jalapenos over a pile of Fritos. We only wish they would serve it the classic way-in the bag. 8611 Hillcrest Rd. @ Northwest Hwy. 214-691-7427. $. Beer and wine.

Copyright D Magazine Apr 01, 2002
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